


Flickering

by violetpeche



Series: Yes I'm Changing [5]
Category: NCT (Band), 威神V | WayV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort No Hurt, Fear of dark, Fluff, Hurricanes & Typhoons, Kissing, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpeche/pseuds/violetpeche
Summary: Brushing your teeth in candlelight isnotromantic.In fact, Ten has decided: to do things in candlelight is far, far from it.





	Flickering

Brushing your teeth in candlelight is _not_ romantic.

In fact, Ten has decided: to do things in candlelight is far, far from it.

It’s the way the flame flickers, burning low into the glass jar over a puddle of lily white wax—and the shadows that scuttle across the walls. He should be finding solace in the candle that's perched on the corner of the bathroom sink—he should be honored to have any light source at all—but his anxiety has squeezed every ounce of bravery out of him since sundown.

The typhoon made landfall thirty minutes later than expected, and the power grids went down shortly after that. It was hailed to be the "_storm of the century_," and Kun spent the week stocking their apartment with jugs of water, canned provisions, and candles.

A naked tree branch scratches against the glass of their bathroom window. It's rhythmic in its desperation to claw its way into the third floor of their building. Ten tries to ignore each tap that crawls its way up his spine, but the sharp shadows dancing across the wall above the toilet make his heart pound in his ears with each flicker of dull candlelight.

He decides to brush his teeth with his eyes closed, but then he starts to feel dizzy and off-balance in the near-total darkness. He braces one hand against the sink to spit, then opens his eyes to watch the line of foam snake down into the drain with a sticky trail clinging to the side of the ceramic bowl. He wishes he grabbed some water before coming in to rinse out his mouth. Instead, Ten opts to gather another pool of spit in his mouth when he dares to flick his gaze to the mirror in front of him.

His heart jumps out of his throat as he inhales the puddle of minty spit, then chokes, all in the split second he sees a pale arm floating near the door jam.

"Shit!"

He hears Kun's voice curse and the slam of something that sounds like a glass bottle onto the granite top between each suffocating cough. The mint has traveled up his nose and his eyes start to water as he gasps into the sink.

He feels Kun's warm, gentle hand caressing up and down the ridge of his spine as his gag echoes against the ceramic.

"Baby," Kun says. "Here, stand up. Put your hands up."

Ten obeys, allows his shoulders to be guided upright as he throws his arms above his head. He tries to steady his breathing to relax his diaphragm as Kun places the lip of a glass to his lips.

"Rinse," Kun whispers, hand never stopping its soothing circles against the cotton on his back.

Ten quickly gargles a mouthful and spits it into the sink, then slowly lowers his arms to regain his breath.

"Thank you," he coughs out one last time. His throat feels scratchy, raw, and his heart rate hasn't slowed once all evening. He's been exhausted with this storm before it even started—the days of anxiety leading up to this: evenings of shadows, of the unknown and unseen lurking behind each corner.

In that moment, a particularly hard gust of wind pounds against all of the windows of their apartment. Ten yelps and immediately turns to bury his face into Kun's neck.

"Make it stop," he wails.

The bottom of the glass clinks against the granite once more, and he feels Kun's arm's wrap around his shoulders. His neck smells like the faint traces of lemongrass body wash from the last shower they took together before the storm came in. Ten doesn't want to dwell on just how long they might be resorting sponge baths with the limited supply of water they had stocked in the pantry.

"I wish I could," Kun murmurs against his hair. Ten feels him squeeze him tighter as another gust of wind knocks against the window.

"I just want the power back."

"I know you do, sweetheart. But at least we have the candles."

Ten huffs and wriggles his way out of Kun's arms to look him dead in the eye. The pale orange glow of the burning wick carves a new shadow into his lover’s face with each flicker. He slides his hands up the spanse of Kun’s chest and stops to cradle them against the underside of his sharp jaw. He watches the light dance around the tops of his cheekbones, into the craters of his dimples as Kun cracks a gentle smile.

_At least I have you_, he thinks as he runs a thumb up the slope of his nose, then across to smooth down the hairs of his brow. The world around them is silent in this split moment as Ten watches the candlelight pry between each eyelash.

“You’re so handsome,” Ten whispers, in awe. 

Kun chuckles and leans forward to rest his forehead against Ten’s.

“And _you_ are a scaredy cat.”

Ten jumps back and clicks his tongue. “Shut up!” He feels his hackles rise at the taunt, even if Kun means it in jest. He’s still embarrassed that even after 24 years _and_ being in a loving relationship with Qian Kun he still can’t get over his fear of the dark.

“You’re also my baby,” Kun clarifies while dodging Ten’s weak punches to his shoulder.

Ten feels his eyebrows knit into a scowl. “And you treat your baby like _this_?”

“Like what?” Kun folds his arms across his chest.

A fresh gust of wind rattles against the window once more and Ten feels his soul crawl out of his body and into Kun’s arms once again. Ten can feel his body shake against his hold and he whimpers against the soft skin of Kun’s neck.

“It’s okay,” Kun assures him against the shell of his ear. He feels Kun slip a hand under his thigh and pull it up to rest Ten’s knee against his hip. “Let’s go cuddle. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Ten nods, and then he squeezes his arms around Ten’s middle to hoist him from the tiled floors. Ten clings onto Kun for dear life and squeezes his eyes shut just before Kun blows out the candle on the counter, then carefully leads them back to their room. 

There’s a freshly lit three-wick candle on the nightstand of Ten’s side of the bed. It burns bright—brighter than the one on the bathroom sink—and magnifies the shadows of Kun’s outline as it dances across the ceiling. Ten lays still as Kun crawls over him, black hair falling into his eyes as his knees dig into the mattress bracketing Ten’s hips. Ten feels calmer than he has all evening as he allows his bones to sink into the down comforter. He finds solace in the weight of Kun’s presence hovering over him.

Kun plants one hand next to Ten’s face and brings up the other to gently push away the hairs at Ten’s forehead. He plants a wet kiss in the center of it, and Ten can feel his cheeks warm at the delicate gesture.. He can hear the soft _schk_ of Kun’s lips part as his spit dries at his skin, and Kun dips back in to plant a new one against his temple.

Kun is so close, Ten’s gone cross-eyed but can’t bring himself to close his eyes just yet. He can see the shadows of coarse hairs sprouting from underneath Kun’s chin, but, strangely, he can hardly feel them against his own skin.

Kun pulls away and moves himself onto his side. He cradles his hands at the base of Ten’s skull and begins to kiss him fully on the mouth—slowly, languidly. He takes his time with it as Ten parts his lips, let’s Kun’s hand move to the side of his neck, to cup beneath his jaw and guide Ten through each kiss. 

It makes Ten feel safe, to know Kun is there to distract him from the darkness that threatens to swallow them whole. He drags his fingertips beneath the hem of Kun’s shirt to gently scratch at his ribs.

“Thank you,” Ten whispers against Kun’s lips. He can feel the tip of Kun’s tongue try to lick into him, but he pulls away.

“Always,” Kun says between a kiss to his cheek and the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

Even though those words have fallen from Kun’s mouth a countless number of times before, the weight of them has never dulled. Without fail, they always make Ten’s heart stutter—out of relief, in disbelief, agreeance, excitement, and everlasting joy. 

If anything, their love for each other is the one light Ten can count on to never go out.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, finding out Ten has a fear of the dark has been quite something, hmm? Overall, this is unbelievably corny, but I figured I could take a stab at adding more to the fluff pile in the KunTen tag.
> 
> First off, I must thank CB for sending me a lovely little video of two precious people making out in the dark. It's mesmerizing to watch, and my heart fell out my ass when CB said it was Kun comforting Ten in the dark (cue watery_eyes.emoji). 
> 
> Yaya made the off-handed comment about Kun comforting Ten in a power outage, so I just. Couldn't. HELP. **MYSELF**. I wrote this on and off over the span of a few hours between midnight and 3am. Please excuse any glaring typos.
> 
> Title is taken from listening to "[Flickering](https://open.spotify.com/track/7rTLpx3Ye5rR3p5mjbGvJl?si=sv5ZeaSMRnyu6NOaqz-Jfw)" by Lapalux on repeat while banging it out.
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/johntographique) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/violetpeche)


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